


Relief

by Amymel86



Series: Jonsa Drabble Fest November 2018 [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Drabble, F/M, Jonsa Drabble Fest, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: The walkers have bled the land dry of human life. He’s not even sure why the living even bother carrying on if he really thinks about it. But you justdo.





	1. Chapter 1

Castle Black was a dump even before Westeros became a hellscape. It’s bad here, but Jon suspects it’s worse in areas that are more heavily populated. Or _used to be_ heavily populated anyway.

The walkers have bled the land dry of human life. He’s not even sure why the living even bother carrying on if he really thinks about it. But you just _do_. You do because you have family or friends that you need to live for. Not that he has any of the former, and only four remaining of the latter. But Pyp, Grenn, Edd and Sam are as close to family as Jon will ever know, and as far as he’s aware the five of them still stationed at the arse-end of the world could be the only people left on this Gods-forsaken continent.

Sam’s high frequency radio hissed and crackled as his friend sat, slowly turning dials, searching for anyone who might be out there.

“You should take a break,” Jon rasped, his voice gravelly from disuse. Sam turned to look up at him, a half-hearted smile being his only answer before he went back to his machine. The man was determined that there were more living people out there. More people like them; surviving.

Jon sighed. Sam had been at this for weeks since dusting off the long-forgotten equipment from the basement. Pyp almost lost his life to a walker when they’d had to go out to search for a few spare parts to restore the thing.

“Grenn’s back from his raid on Mole’s Town,” he offered to no response. “He found some cans of peaches.”

That got a reaction. His friend left Jon in the room with nothing more than a sheepish smile as he hurried off to taste a rare sweetness.

Jon sat himself down in Sam’s old creaky chair and stared at the alien buttons and dials in front of him. If there were other survivors out there, if it wasn’t just the five of them left alive in the world, it would bring back something that Jon’s sorely missed this past year; hope.

His hand stretched out before he could stop himself, twisting the largest dial on the console all the way to the left. The static whooshed and screeched at a deafening rate. He began turning it back, bit by bit.

His brow creased, and he turned his ear towards the speaker when he thought he heard a faint… _something._ It was like someone was singing at the same time as he was diving into water with all the bubbles rushing past his ears, muffling the sound. He turned the dial a fraction more.

Someone _was_ singing.

Jon jumped up from the seat so abruptly that the chair fell back with a clatter behind him. With quick, shaky hands, he grabbed the transmitter and pressed the operation button on the side.

“Hello?”

The singing stopped abruptly before a woman’s voice started squealing excitedly.

“Robb! _Robb!..._ _Someone’s alive out there!”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working this in as my entry for the day 3 prompt 'modern au' as a run on from the previous drabble.

If Jon volunteers for another night shift up in the tower, then he _knows_ he’ll be a sleep-deprived zombie come the morning. _Just another walker to add to the rest_ , he thought ruefully with a secret grin as he took the stairs two at a time. It wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed being the nocturnal look-out for walking corpses coming their way, but rather that the tower also happens to house the radio transmitter and at night, he got to hear _her._

It had been three weeks since he was first lucky enough to catch the soft melody of her voice amongst the crackle and burr of the static. And now, he knows her name; _Sansa_. Such a pretty name for someone surviving in the hell of their days. They’ve been talking over the radio waves and under the indigo night skies ever since their discovery of one another.

Unfortunately, their discussions have to be held at night because Robb, Sansa’s older brother and the leader of their group from what Jon can gather, is rightfully suspicious of any unknown people still somehow alive. She told him that he’d been furious to hear that she was using their radio, broadcasting her sweet singing voice and has forbidden her to use the equipment. For some reason, this only serves to heighten Jon’s enjoyment of his talks with her; there’s something addictive about the forbidden.

Not that Jon can blame Robb at all. His own group have had their run ins with others and have been left all the worse for it. First it was a raid from a group calling themselves The Wildlings. They shot down three of their men and took all their food and weapons for themselves. After that, a small party of men claiming to be Nightswatchmen from the Eastwatch Unit arrived, led by a man named Karl Tanner. Jon and his men managed to overcome them when things were looking dicey, but not before Karl had put a bullet in Lord Commander Mormont’s skull.

If he were Sansa’s brother, he’d want her to be suspicious too.

Her group have managed to hole up in an old drafty castle. Sansa tells him that her family used to own the thing generations ago. Just before the world turned to shit however, Winterfell Castle was one of those tourist destinations you’d pay to enter and get guided tours around the Lord’s bedchamber and the great feasting hall before you were ushered into the gift shop to part with more money.

As a fortress against masses of walking dead men, Jon suspects moving into the castle would’ve been a pretty smart plan. He’s found the place on their faded maps and estimates that it’d take them two weeks to walk there unless they ran into trouble along the way. The other lads aren’t particularly keen on the idea.

“I’ve got good news,” Sansa’s whispered voice tells him over the radio tonight.

“Oh?”

“Rickon had a nightmare.”

Jon feels himself frown. “You might need to elaborate on that one.”

“It means that Robb is sleeping in the boy’s room to help him feel safe and that’s all the way down the hall… so he wouldn’t overhear me if I… if you wanted me to sing for you again.”

Jon leant forward eagerly. He can’t quite understand why Sansa’s singing stirs him, but he thinks he could search for the rest of his days and find no finer sound.

“That is…” she says, a little uncertain, “if you’d still like me to?”

“Aye,” he swallowed. “I’d like that very much.”


End file.
